


Destiny is a Cruel Mistress

by nalua93



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Child Warden, Gen, Kid Warden, Underage Warden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-10-26 21:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nalua93/pseuds/nalua93
Summary: Duncan is unsuccessful in his travels and is forced to return to Ostagar without a viable recruit. Or so he thinks. A days travel before Lothering he comes upon a raided camp where he finds a lone girl. Traumatized by the things she has seen the girl does not speak but is still too determined to be left behind in the safety of the last real village before the Wilds. So Duncan does not have any other choice but to take her with him to the war camp. He never intended for her to become a Grey Warden. He never intended to die either, leaving Alistair alone to care for a young Grey Warden who was never meant to be.





	1. Duncan

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is based of a tumblr post I made a very long time ago and that has gotten away from me since. So I thought, I might as well write it. Hope you like it. Truly sorry for any mistakes/bad writing you may find. (English is not my first language and I've never really written anything like this using it.) Let me know how you like it.

**Duncan**

_"From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."_

Duncan was on his way back to Ostagar, when he came upon the massacred camp in the woods. He was already in a sore mood. He was returning without any recruits in a time when they needed them the most. The king and his advisor may not believe it, but Duncan and all of his fellow Grey Wardens knew it. This was a true blight. Why the Archdemon didn’t show himself nobody could say. But Duncan heard its calling every night in his sleep and so did his brothers and sisters.

So when he found the abandoned cart it didn’t exactly lift his mood. The dead hurlock that lay beside it helped a little though. At least the poor bastards put up a good fight. He is already leaving when something catches his eye. Duncan isn’t sure at first what it is but then it hits him. The angle of the wounds is wrong. This wasn’t done by a human or an elf. Duncan’s mind jumps to dwarves. But he himself wasn’t able to secure any help from Orzammar and the Carta wouldn’t send any agents this far south at a time like this.

Then he hears the light footsteps and his hand immediately flies to his sword. He then relaxes realizing that the song has not become louder. 

“Hello? Is somebody there?” And for a moment there is only silence. Then a figure appears from the bushes. Because she is so short, for a moment Duncan thinks, that she is indeed a dwarf. But one look at her thin stature and he knows that he is mistaken. “Hello child.” He tries to keep his voice as soft as possible. The girl is tense. Ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. “You are safe now. The darkspawn are gone.”

He keeps the _for now _to himself.

When the girl steps into the light of the little clearing Duncan gets a better look at her. She has a haunted look at her. The simple clothes are a little to big on her but look warm enough for the time of the year. Her eyes dart around the clearing and react to every moment, every noise. Then, Duncan sees the dagger that she clutches in her right hand. The blood on it and the front of her shirt. He looks back at the hurlock.

“Did you …?”

The girl’s eyes return to him for a moment. Then she nods. Hesitantly, as if she is not sure she should admit to killing a creature that would not hesitate killing her.

Duncan has to admit that he is somewhat impressed. There are grown men who wouldn't be a match against a darkspawn. She could, of course, be lying. But Duncan doubts that is the case here. There is no reason for her to lie. And the dagger and the blood splatter on her clothes tell the story for her. 

He takes out his waterskin and food rations. She doesn’t eat much, but drinks almost all of the water. After that she doesn’t leave his side. He makes sure that there are no other survivors before setting out. He thinks of Lothering and remembers the Revered Mother there. He knows that they have a lot of mouths to feed at the moment. But he doubts they will turn an orphaned child away. Besides it is not like he can just leave the poor thing behind.

While walking he tries to get her to talk, but apart from a nod, shaking of a head or an occasional shrug he doesn’t get any answers. He doesn’t mind. He knows that shock and grieve can take many forms. Even if it would have been nice to know that to call the girl. 

When it becomes clear, that the girl will not talk Duncan fills the silence with stories of his own. If only to distract the poor child from the horrors she has witnessed. And it seems to be working, somewhat. He sees her eyeing his sword and dagger and, in the evening, after making camp beside a river, he allows her to hold them for a moment.

He expects her to struggle with the heavy sword. Maybe make a uncoordinated swing or two with the dagger.

He didn’t expect her to pick the sword up like it has been the only thing she has been doing all her life (the thing is almost as big as she is, for Andraste’s sake) and expertly flip the dagger in her left hand, testing the balance.

“You’ve done this before haven’t you?” She nods and swings the sword at an invisible opponent.

Duncan looks at her for a few moments. It had been such a long time since he had had a proper student. He leaves the camp for a moment and comes back with sticks.

“Want to train a little?”

Duncan swears her grin lights up their camp more than a bonfire ever could.

* * *

The girl is a very talented student. Maybe the most talented one Duncan has had the honor of teaching until now. As he leaves Lothering behind him he allows himself a moment to mourn the fact that there was not more time to teach her.

Maybe if he survives the battle he could come back and find her again. She didn’t seem eager to stay. He could properly take her as his student …

He swears the Archdemons song grows a little louder for a moment as if to mock him.

He blames the song for the fact that he doesn’t notice the little shadow following him until the evening. And to be fair he is expecting to be ambushed by darkspawn he can sense. Maybe a group of thugs if he gets really unlucky. He did not expect was being followed by a small child. Who had been very silent up until the moment Duncan finally discovers her and gives a scolding to for not staying in Lothering.

He contemplates on going back. For about half a second. Lothering is already a day’s travel away and he really doesn’t have the time. Besides he wasn’t sure he could make the girl stay even if he did go back. He had the feeling she would just stubbornly come after him again.

He pretends a small part of him isn’t happy, she chose to follow him. He takes the opportunity to train her a little more while trying to come up with a good excuse to explain the girl’s presence to the other Wardens and Loghain. The king he is less worried about.

* * *

Turns out he didn’t need to worry. He gets a comment or two about war camp not being the right place for young girls, but everybody is too busy with preparations to waste too much time on complaining. Duncan finds Alistair and introduces him to the girl. He can almost see the big brother instinct rise its head in the young Warden as he explains how he found her in midst of corpses.

Then he sends the girl off with the warning to stay in the camp and out of everybody’s way. They watch her dart off to the kennels.

“She is rather quiet, isn’t she?”

“Hasn’t even told me her name yet”, Duncan confesses.

“Poor thing.”

They find the recruits and Duncan sends them off to find themselves some darkspawn blood and to retrieve the treaties from the old outpost. Realizing that he could use the free moment to give the girl a few more pointers he goes to the kennels to retrieve her. Only to find that she isn’t there.

The kennel master tells him that she had indeed come to see the dogs earlier and even praised her for helping him handle one of the sick ones. But then he had turned his back to her and she had been gone the next time he had looked up.

“Send her my way after the battle. I think one of the dogs took a liking to her.” 

Duncan walks around the camp looking for her. And starts worrying after the second round he makes. He thinks back how stealthily she was able to move and goes to check with the gatekeepers. None of them haven’t seen her. Somehow it doesn’t make him feel better.

Right after sundown Alistair arrives with the recruits. And the girl.

The relief molds itself to anger and finally to a sad realization when she holds the white flower up to him. He vaguely remembers the kennel master wanting a Wilds Flower for the sick hounds. He scolds her a moment longer and then allows her to run off to the kennels.

He listens to Alistair’s report and takes the treaties from him. Though a little surprised by the involvement of apostates he is still glad that the treaties were safe and reminds Alistair that he is no longer a templar. He glances at the kennels to make sure the girl is still there and then ushers the recruits to the ritual. He hopes the sick dog will keep her attention long enough that she doesn’t come looking for them before they are done.

* * *

It is always difficult to watch when the Joining kills one of the recruits. And it is even more difficult to deal with those remaining wanting to back out.

Neither of those thins compare to the pit in Duncan’s stomach, when he pulls the dagger out of Jory, turns around and sees the girl with the cup in her hands, taking a sip from the red liquid. He and Alistair both cry out, but it is already too late. The cup clatters on the stone as the girl’s eyes turn white and her knees give out under her. Duncan manages to catch her before she hit’s her head.

He blames himself.

He should have found a way to make her stay in Lothering. Should have asked the kennel master to keep her occupied a little longer. The song in his head grows louder. At first he thinks it is the Archdemon mocking him for his failures.

Then the convulsions stop and for a moment Duncan is sure she is dead. But the girl opens her eyes and he hears Alistair curse behind him. The instant relief is washed away by the realization that the child in his arms is now something nobody has never head of and probably never even dared to think of.

A child Grey Warden.

“What do we do?”, he hears Alistair ask beside him.

“We’ll have to get her to Weishaupt after the battle”, Duncan begins to answer. “The Warden Commander will-“

“No, Duncan. What do we do _now_? The darkspawn ...”

And then he realizes what Alistair means with his question. There would be battle before dawn. And they had a child that would attract every darkspawn close enough to hear her. The war camp was no longer safe for her.

He is still thinking about it when the war council starts. Surprisingly it is Cailan who gives him the answer. He meets the kings eye and realizes that he wants his bastard brother out of the harms way and sees the opportunity.

* * *

“You and the kid are going to the Tower of Ishal. You need light the signal fire so the Teyrn knows when to attack. The king has personally tasked you with this job.”

Duncan sees Alistair give the kid a quick glance and swallow his protests. While Duncan had been busy, he had gone to quartermaster and gotten the girl some ill-fitting leather armor. It wasn’t ideal, but better than nothing if some stragglers managed to get through.

He then kneels in front of the girl. He forces her to look at him.

“Listen. This is important. You won’t be able to hide as well from the darkspawn from now on, but they won’t be able to hide from you as well. Stay. With. Alistair. Do you understand me? Do not leave his side unless he tells you to run or gives you another command.”

He can see the fear in her eyes, but to his surprise there is more determination there.

Duncan almost misses the soft “I will.” He smiles and hugs them both.

“Duncan, may the Maker watch over you.”

“May he watch over us all.” With that he turned around the heads to the battle field. Walking down the path he allows himself to enjoy the thought of being able to train a very talented student in the future.

But, alas, the fate never gave him the chance.


	2. Flemeth

** Flemeth  **

_Is it fate or chance? I can never decide. _

A manged old crow sits on top one of the ruined towers of Ostagar. It observes the war preparations below curiously while looking for any scouts setting out into the Wilds. It wouldn’t do to let come them too close to the hut. It sees a commotion at one of the gates and flies closer. The foolish king is welcoming back the Grey Warden Commander. Looks like the greying man has returned without a recruit this time.

Disappointed the crow is about to turn away, but a movement behind the commander catches its eye. A small child is standing behind him eyeing the king and his entourage mistrustingly. Curiously it flies a little nearer which catches the girl’s attention. The intensity of the girl’s passing glance catches the crow of guard. And for a moment it is sure that it has been discovered. But the moment passes, and the girl does not shout out in alarm.

_Well, well. What do we have here?_

The crow watches as the Commander introduces the girl to another much younger Warden and then lets her wander in the camp while he seeks out his recruits. It keeps half an eye on him but is far more interested in the girl. It recognizes this feeling. That intensity. The crow has felt it before. Though never from anybody so young.

_Fate is such a cruel mistress_, it decides watching the girl calm down a war hound that is almost double her own size. It watches her hide in the shadows and follow the recruits into the Wilds when the guards are not looking and crows out a laugh.

The crow let’s itself fall from it’s perch and opens its wings. It was time to return home and prepare for the coming visitors. Morrigan is watching over dinner preparations when the crow arrives back at their home. Touching down a puff of dark smoke encompasses it. When it settles in the place of the crow stands an old woman in weathered clothes. Flemeth stretches to get the kinks out of her old bag. The transformations do take a lot more out of her than what they used to.

“We’ll be having guests soon. Why don’t you go to the old tower and make sure they find their way? It is time that the treaties return to the Wardens.”

It doesn’t take long for Morrigan to return with the group. Flemeth laughs as one of the recruits identifies her as the treaded Witch of the Wilds and looks at the girl who clutches a bunch of Wilds Flowers in her hands.

“And what of you, little one? Do you possess a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as the others do?” She doesn’t get an answer. At least not a verbal one. The girl holds her gaze firmly and the old woman can see her trying to figure out whether she is a threat to them.

_A smart one_. She glances at the men traveling with her. Only one of them still has their hand on their weapon. But not in the way that says that he expects to use it. She kneels to get a better look at the girl. “So much about you is uncertain …” There it is. That gaze again. “And yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!”, she mutters to herself. She stands up and hands the treaties to the kings bastard brother. “And before you start barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these. Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blights threat is greater than they realize!”

Sputtering the leader of the group takes the papers. And Flemeth smiles as the girl gives his arm a hefty tug and gives him a scolding look any mother would be proud of.

“Right, um, thank you for keeping these safe. I guess. And returning them.”

Flemeth laughs and instructs her daughter to make sure the group makes it safely back to the camp. Only to follow them herself as a crow.

Taking her old place at the top of the ruins, she watches the Warden Commander scold the girl for recklessly leaving the camp. Only for his expression to soften as she shows him the flowers she picked up. He sends her to the kennels and ushers his recruits aside to complete the ritual. Obviously thinking that the girl is too distracted to follow.

But from her perch Flemeth can see how the girl’s eyes follow the men. She can see the displeasure in her eyes about being left out. She gives the kennel master the flowers, gives the sick hound a few scratches behind the ear and disappears into the shadows following the Grey Wardens.

When Flemeth sees her grab the cup a part of her wants to stop the girl. Whatever she may be these days, Flemeth is still a mother and it pains her to see a child put itself into danger. But she knows that stopping the girl would be a doing a big disfavour for her. And to the world.

So, she watches the cup clatter to floor and the child’s eyes turn white. And waits. She leaves out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding when her eyes open again. And just to be sure she opens her senses a little. She feels the Blight in the girl’s body. Satisfied she relaxes and watches the Wardens frat over her.

She keeps her eye on the girl until she and her guardian disappear in the tower. From her perch she sees them defeat the ogre together. Lighting the beacon. She witnesses the Teyrn’s betrayal and watches arrows pierce through the girl’s body.

Well, this wouldn’t do.

Flemeth lets scales grow over the feathers and fire fill her lungs. She roasts the darkspawn in the tower and picks the girl up in one of her talons and the young Grey Warden in the other. She returns to the hut with them only to listen Morrigan express her displeasure for bringing them. Flemeth ignores her while she heals the pair. Morrigan may be her daughter, but she still has so much to learn.

The man wakes up first. He is frantic and barely hears a word of what Flemeth tells him. Until Morrigan steps out of the hut with the girl in tow.

And so, she sets them on their way. With her own daughter no less.

The next time she sees them a few months have passed. And Morrigan is not with them. Flemeth smiles. She knows Morrigan has found her false grimoire and to which conclusion she has come reading it. She is wrong of course.

Not that it matters.

Flemeth lets her eyes go over the girl’s frame. She has matured in the last few months. More than she should have. Contracting the Blight does do wonderous things to the mortal body when it is done right. Approvingly she notes the light armour she has been fitted in. So much better than the lose scraps she had been wearing the last time Flemeth saw her.

The determined glint in her eye she regards Flemeth with not changed and the old woman is glad for it. She will need it to make through the things to come.

Her quietness also hasn’t changed and so it is still the would be king who does the talking. Though Flemeth gathers it wasn’t really his decision to come here. The suspicion turns to confirmations when she makes her counteroffer and the blonde man glances at the girl.

The girl on the other hand does let her eyes stray away from Flemeth. Letting the adults of the group talk she meets the old witches gaze steadily. Like she is looking for something. Whatever she is looking for, she must be satisfied with what she finds as she tucks the Wardens sleeve and gives him a short nod.

Flemeth happily hands the girl her real grimoire and bids them goodbye. She waits for them to get a little farther away before she sheds her human form and leaves her old hut behind for good.

She is glad to have sent Morrigan with them, Flemeth thinks as she spreads her leather wings. It would be a shame to lose a soul like the girl’s to the whims of an Old God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Flemeth's point of view. Let me know how you liked it. Next up will be Leliana.


	3. Leliana

> "I love stories far too much to keep them to myself."

When Leliana first meets the ragtag group in the tavern they are about the be ambushed by Loghain's men. She takes one look at them and believes to know the reason why Maker wanted her to help them. A single young Warden, a witch, a dog and a child. This was all there was left of the legendary Grey Wardens?

_Well, at least the dog is a __war hound_, she tries staying positive as she introduces herself.

Jokes aside they do need all the help they can get. Which is the argument she brings up when they hesitate. And it is seemingly the only reason why Alistair in the end agrees to take 'the crazy sister' along with them.

It doesn't take Leliana long to see how mistaken she was in her first assessment. Even though his decision-making could be more, well, decisive, Alistair was fiercely protective of everyone when it came to battle and had a surprisingly tactical mind when it came to it.

Morrigan on the other hand she had read correctly. For the most part. The cold woman was definitely a witch by every definition of the word. And a much more powerful one than she let any of them know, Leliana was sure of that. But Leliana did catch her icy gaze softening every now and then when she was talking to their youngest group member.

The dog of course was a mabari. Leliana had encountered them before and had heard many a story even before that. So at least here she mostly knew what she was getting. Except that she had thought, that the dog was following Alistair. Turns out the fearsome battle hound was ready to rip out the throat of any one who looked at his mistress wrong. Who in this case was a young girl.

The girl is the one who surprised Leliana the most. In the first night, she asks Alistair why he didn't leave her in Lothering where the Chantry sisters could look after her.

"Even if I would be able to convince her, it wouldn't be safe for her. Not anymore."

Leliana argues that the Templars there were very capable and that the sisters were planning to move everyone away from the horde's way as fast as possible, if that was what Alistair was worried about. It would be much safer for her there than with them. And she would have other children of her age to play with.

And then with a heavy sigh, as if he was telling a shameful secret, Alistair tells her: "She is a Grey Warden, Leliana. As long as the Blight rages on, nowhere is safe for her." And even though he does not include any specifics on the ritual, Alistair explains that the girl had sneaked in and participated when he and his senior Grey Warden Duncan had been distracted. "One of our abilities is to sense them. But it also makes them able to sense us."

She lets the matter drop after that. Instead she offers the girl tips on being as quite as possible when sneaking and taught her how to blend into an environment. When they visited the city she got the opportunity to show her that sneaking in didn't always mean not to be seen. Sometimes it simply meant to blend in. To be seen and forgotten immediately after. She also showed her how to make basic poisons to make her weapons even more effective with Zevran's training.

When Wynne is added to the group, the old woman finally manages to coax her name out of the girl. After that Elanor opens up a little, though she still doesn't speak much. But Leliana finds that she is very easy to speak to. The girl is a very good listener and never judges Leliana when she starts to open up about her past.

Then they get ambushed. And this time their target are not Alistair and Elanor, but Leliana. Elanor takes her hand and squeezes it, as Leliana is forced to tell the others about her past and who sent them. Alistair promises her that they will take care of Marjolaine when they arrive in Denerim.

All the way to Denerim and even more so with Marjolaine before her own eyes Leliana is convinced, that the only way for her to live in peace is to kill her old mentor. But Elanor stays her arrow. A hand on Lelianas arm and a soft look from those big brown eyes is all it takes.

"Leave Ferelden. Go back to Orlais and never return. What you do is no longer my concern."

Even though Marjolaine gives her threats, Leliana knows: It is over. She is finally free.

And yet the fear and doubt do creep in later, when she is sitting by the camp fire. She should have killed her. She would have to watch over her shoulder for the rest of her life fearing Marjolaines retribution. And she realizes that this burning dread in her stomach is exactly what made Marjolaine who she was. In the end will make Leliane herself the same as the spy mistress. 

Preoccupied with her dark thoughts, Leliana almost misses Elanor sitting down beside her. For a moment she marvels at how good the girl has become at moving quietly. Then she catches the worried look on Elanor's face. It is all it takes to make Leliana talk and confess her doubts to the girl, who is way too young to be concerned about assassins and the end of the world.

But, like so many times, Elanor takes her by surprise.

"Marjolaine chose, who she became. So can you. You already have. You chose to leave the Chantry to help others. That has to mean something."

It is the longest string of words Leliana has heard the girl say. And the most hopeful thing she has heard in a long while.

"Do you really think so? Hearing you say that gives me comfort." And it does. Although it is a little unnerving to hear something so wise from someone so young. What was that Chantry saying again? _A learned child is a blessing upon his parents and unto to the Maker._ Well, the girl may not have her parents anymore, but she was definitely a blessing for those around her. "Thank you sweetheart." She gives Elanor a light kiss and ruffles her short brown hair. "Would you mind leaving me for a moment? I need a little time for myself, I think." Leliana gets a strong hug before Elanor runs off to pester Zevran about new techniques. (His "How on earth are you not tired yet?!" makes her chuckle.)

From that day Leliana is more at ease with herself than she has been in years. She wishes, she could somehow repay Elanor for her kindness. But although she is the one of them who has lost the most during this Blight, the young girl seldom shows any sings of sadness.

That changes when they are on their way back to Redcliffe with Andraste's healing ashes. The attack on the camp is over quickly and Leliana gives Maker thanks for Elanor's and Alistair's abilities to sense the darkspawn. She shudders at the thought of the shrieks catching them unawares. She is about to make a quick head count, when she hears a hoarse voice call out.

"Elanor? Is that you?"

One look at the poor ghoul is all it takes for Leliana to see the similarities. The realization hits her at the same time she hears Elanor call out. "Papa?"

Leliana is thankful for Alistair's protective instincts and his fast reflexes. He barely manages to catch the girl before she throws herself at the poor creature that was once her father.

"You have to stay away, little pup. It is too late for me. The song is too loud. Then he looks at Leliana. "Please." Leliana hears his pain in every ragged breath. She nods and draws an arrow from her quiver.

"Thank you." He gives a last longing look at his daughter. "Please, take care of her."

Surprisingly, it is Morrigan who answers. "She will not come to harm with us, 'tis I swear to you."

"Thank you." The ghoul takes a hesitant step towards his daughter. "I am so proud of you little pup. Your mother and I both love you very much."

Leliana makes sure Elanor's head is buried against Alistair's shoulder before she let's her arrow fly. It doesn't change the fact that the girls scream will haunt her for the rest of her life.


	4. Sten

_"Happiness is fragile. Nothing can be built upon it that will last. Only duty endures."_

It is duty that forces Sten to follow the Grey Wardens. He may have disgraced himself by losing Asala. Even more so when he lost is bearings and killed those innocent civilians. But that did not mean he had to add to his shame. Duty dictated Sten at least try to complete his mission. And now he was duty bound to the Wardens for letting him out of his cage. (Which he deserved to be in, as he told them numerous times.) Well, if he had to be accurate (and Sten liked to be), he owed his life to the girl. Much later he learned her name to be Elanor. 

It had been on her insistence that Sten was freed. Alistair had been much more opposed to the idea. "He is a murderer. He himself says so. And even if he was innocent, which he, again, very clearly isn't, because he literally admitted he did it, there is nothing we can do about it. I asked the Revered Mother, remember? She refused. And besides ..." His tirade stopped suddenly as if Alistair had come to an realization. The Warden gave the child an accusing look. "You stole it, didn't you? You stole the key." It was more of an statement, than a question. With a sheepish look on her face the girl produces the key from her pocket. Alistair rubs his face tiredly, which makes Sten think this is not the first time the girl has pulled a stunt like this. "Fine. But be quick about it. We are leaving immediately."

And so Sten was let out of his cage. To say he was happy about it, would be a so great exaggeration it would border on an outright lie. After all he _had _deserved the punishment. He deserved to die. But for whatever the reason may be, the child had decided to save him, so duty dictated he repay his debt. The fact that Alistair and the girl are Grey Wardens only reaffirms his resolve. He was sent to find information about the Blight after all. Who better to ask than the order that was made to fight it?

Though Sten failed to comprehend why these people allowed a girl to fight with them. If the child would have been a boy he would have understood. The earlier one starts to train a skill the better. But girls were not meant to be warriors.

When he tells Alistair as much, the man laughs at his face. "You try to stop her." Sten takes him on his challenge. And like all the others before and after him, Sten fails. Though he is more persistent than the others. 

His efforts come to an end after they cleanse the old Warden's Keep from the undead and demons that had plagued it. He commands her to stay there while the rest of the group continues to fight the Blight. Elanor's answer is clear and simple. 

"No." She turns around and starts to walk away from him. Clearly thinking that the conversation is over. Sten feels the hot anger boil in his stomach. Children were not supposed to speak to their elders in this manner. He reaches out to grab her. But where Elanor's arm was a second ago is now just empty cold air. He looks up and sees her standing several paces away (how did she get there that fast?), knees slightly bent, hands on her still unsheathed weapons. The war hound is standing beside her, growling menacingly.

Sten remembers how it ripped out the throat of a demon the day before and fights the urge to cover his exposed neck. 

"I said _no_", the girl repeats in a voice that doesn't invite discussion.

Reluctantly Sten admits to himself that he is impressed. Not many humans have dared to stand up to him. And now that he considers it, the girl _was _a good fighter, getting even better every day. Maybe she was an aqun-athlok. With this thought, he concedes. "I understand."

"Good." In a fluid motion, Elanor relaxes from her battle stance and calms the hound down with a simple gesture. As she runs off, Sten hears a chuckle and turns around.

"Told you", Alistair laughs and goes after the girl. 

A few weeks after when they are making camp, the girl comes running to him, stretching her arm to give him something she had just gotten from the dwarven merchant who tended to follow them around. Sten takes the pastry from her and gives his thanks. 

"We have no such thing in our lands. This should be remedied", he tells her before biting down on the sweet bread. 

Afterwards he realizes that without further verbal prompting Elanor had managed to draw more stories about the qun out of him. Sten had even told her about his mission and how he had lost his sword. He finds that he doesn't mind her knowing these things. Not much she could do with the information anyway. 

A few weeks later they traveling to the dwarven kingdom and Elanor insists Sten come with her to talk to a merchant. And not even in a thousand ages could Sten have guessed what the girl was about to ask. 

"Did you happen to find a qunari sword?"

"Qunari? I'm afraid, I don't know the word." On any other day Sten would have schooled the man on his ignorance, but he was still too shocked about the topic of the conversation to say anything.

"It would have been very large." Elanor motions with her hands to demonstrate her point. (Which was probably good. The man seemed very dim to Sten.)

"Oh, those? I had one, but I sold it already."

"Who did you sell it to?"

The man's tone turn patronizing. "A collector. I can't go telling you all about my paying customers. One, it's not ethical, and two, it's bad for business. A lot of my customers are sensitive types. They don't want their personal business related to every stranger who happens along." 

Even before she speaks, Sten can see that the man had just used up the last of Elanor's patience. "Tell me, or I'll let the original owner know where to find you." Elanor's voice is cold, leaving no room for question whether or not she actually means the threat. Taken back by her sudden change of tone, the man looks up and seems to really notice Sten for the first time. He swallows and starts talking. 

Turns out they already knew the man the merchant had sold Asala to. 

Sten had almost forgotten how good it felt to have Asala on his side. It would always be a part of him in a way no other sword ever could be.

"I think you must be an ashkaari to find a single lost blade in country at war", he tells Elanor not knowing how else to give his thanks. He thinks about his duty to the qunari people. He'll have to report back to the Arishok someday. 

But for now, Sten has another, a much more important, duty to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Next up will be Wynne's chapter.


	5. Wynne

_"But why should you fear death if you are happy with life you have led, if you can look back on everything and say, "Yes, I am content. It is enough."_

Like the others, Wynne also questions Alistair's decision to keep the child with the group. Surely it is possible to find a safe place for her. But Wynne is the only one who sees the silent panic behind the humorous answer. And, in turn, Alistair seems to notice this and confides in her. Or maybe it is just the fact that she is old and he thins that she will take the secrets he is about to tell her to the grave soon enough. Maybe he just needs to finally share the horror that has been keeping him up at night ever since Ostagar.

Whatever the real reason is, Alistair makes sure everyone else is occupied, asleep or far enough away before he tells Wynne everything. Why leaving the girl behind is not an option and how the whole situation came to be.

"She has 30 years to live, Wynne. Then it will kill her even if the constant fighting doesn't", he tells her choking back the tears. "I've tried to explain it to her. I don't know if she really understands. I'm not sure if I even shouls try to make her understand. She is so young. This was never meant to happen. She was never meant to ... "

Wynne does her best to calm him down. Tells him there is no use to worry over spilled milk. To take one problem at a time. They need to worry about defeating the Archdemon first and foremost. If they didn't manage that, the Blight would rage on and the child probably wouldn't survive past her teens-

Her words seem to help. Alistair thanks Wynne for listening and implores her not to tell anybody the truth about the Wardens. She gives him her word and assures that the secret is safe with her. She even promises to try and talk to the girl to find out how aware she actually is of her condition.

She doesn't much success. The girl seems to listen well enough when talked to, but rarely gives an answer beyond a nod or a head shake. They still didn't know her name.

A few weeks after Wynne's talk with Alistair they encounter an ambush of darkspawn. Somehow, even though she theoretically had the least battle experience out of all of them, the girl always seemed to be the one with the least injuries. Wynne credited it to her sticking to the shadows, striking only when an opponent was already occupied or almost dead and disappearing again before they even knew what hit them in the first place. When that didn't work, did her agility give her enough leeway to dance away from the blades of her enemies. And of course there was the mabari, who was always there to throw himself at anybody who dared to harm his mistress.

But as fights tend to be pure chaos, sometimes even the girl did get a scratch or two for her efforts. Though never anything Wynne couldn't quickly fix with healing magic or a potion. 

"I hope this teaches you to dodge when the ogre is about to fall on you, young lady", Wynne lectures her good naturally while concentrating on the flow of healing magic mending the girl's ribs.

"Not a lady", Wynne hears her grumble.

"Oh, is that so? Well, unfortunately for you, I don't know what else to call you, so you will have to make do, I'm afraid", Wynne teases.

"Elanor."

The whole group around them freezes. Wynne almost loses the concentration on the spell.

"Well, Elanor", Wynne starts, trying to speak as normally as possible even though her heart is thrumming excitedly. She sees how uncomfortable the girl is because of the attention on her. "Your ribs seem to be fine. Why don't you make Zevran and Leliana show you, how to best dodge large things about to fall on you?" Distracted by the promise of training the girl, Elanor, runs of with a big grin on her face. 

Alistair sweeps Wynne in a bone crushing hug. "I don't know what I would do without you", he confesses. Wynne brushes him off. She is glad to be here after all. Everyone needed to do their part to defeat the Blight. Wynne had to right to do any less than anybody else just because she happened to be little bit older. And if that meant helping a little girl heal in more than one way, Wynne was more than happy to help.

It is a privilege really, she decides months later, to watch someone like Elanor grow up and to know to have played a part in it. And the young girl had grown much indeed in the past months, Wynne observes as she watches the group discuss battle plans with Anora and Eamon. It had been a long time since anyone had last questioned the presence of the child among them. Instead they listened to her suggestions when she spoke up.

Which is still rare, but she was gradually growing to be more outspoken much to Alistair's (and everybody else's) delight. Elanor's growth had not only been spiritual, however. Wynne remembers the small girl with barely any meat on her bones storming a tower full of demons and abominations all those months back. The young girl before her had well defined muscles and was many inches taller, making her look much older than she really was. 

Alistair speculates that the taint had forced her body to grow up faster and Wynne speculates that he might be right. She remembers that first conversation with him and realizes that Alistair was wrong about Elanor's lack of awareness about her condition. Wynne observes her studying the map before her intently with an expression one would express to find on the face of an old war veteran. 

Turns out, Elanor knew exactly what it meant to be a Grey Warden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Next chapter is Shale.


	6. Shale

_“I would appreciate it if it didn’t spread around that I said anything. Humans might start to get the wrong idea. They might start thinking their race is not completely hopeless.”_

Shale did not like children. The ones in the village used to make fun of them. Only pigeons were worse. Not by much though.

That a child was responsible for freeing them, did not change Shale’s opinion. Surely, it must have thought Shale would make an excellent companion to play with. Well, too bad. The control rod was broken, and no one would be able to control Shale.

But as it turns out, that is not why Shale was freed. Upon discovering that Shale possesses a will of its own, the small one insists that they are free to go, if Shale wished to do so.

This was … unexpected, to say the least.

Shale did not know what to do with their newfound freedom. One place was as good as another without memories. So, Shale decides to stay and discovers the joy of squishing heads between their stone fingers. This is not so bad, Shale finds. They even find some augmentation crystals for Shale to wear.

Shale tries putting them on themselves. But the stone hands are far too big for the job. When the small one offers to help Shale agrees, expecting the girl to make fun of them. Instead it listens carefully to Shale’s instructions on how and where to put the crystals.

“They don’t make me look wider, do they? I find, I am already too wide as it is”, Shale worries after they are done-

“No, no. They are really pretty.”

“They are, aren’t they? I so adore them! I think we should find some more as soon as possible. I want to glitter from ear to ear … so to speak.”

The small one runs off to the bigger Grey Warden and Shale decides that maybe not all children were terrible. At least this one didn’t seem so bad.

It is the small one who comes to Shale after they help Caridin destroy the Anvil of the Void. They are trenching back to Orzammar and Shale is contemplating on things they have just learned. The child doesn’t say anything, just paces its steps with Shale’s. But, as usual, it is enough to get them talking.

“Shayle of House Cadash. Is that who I once was? I find this difficult to believe.”

“I don’t.”

“If I was this Shayle of House Cadash as Caridin said, there must be some evidence of my existence remaining. I must find it.”

“Maybe there are records with Shapers?”, the small one suggests. “They seem to like recording everything.”

“There is another way. What Caridin said, it has allowed me to remember one thing. I believe, I know where Cadash Thaig is.” When Shale doesn’t get an answer, they look down to see the girl gone. When they look up, they spot it ahead with the bigger Grey Warden, tugging its arm and pointing to Shale. Shale doesn’t appreciate having to explain everything again but knows that ultimately it is the bigger Grey Warden who will decide where they go.

“Well, we need to go back to Orzammar first. Give them this bloody crown Caridin made and make sure they will aid us against the Blight”, it says. “But if this is that important to you, I don’t see why we can’t come back and look for this Thaig afterwards.”

“Its offer is appreciated. I will mark the location on its map.”

The bigger Warden does keep its word. After making Bhelen king and making sure they have enough supplies to last one more trip in the Deep Roads they find themselves in the old Cadash Thaig standing before the statue build in honour of those who volunteered to become golems.

Shayle of House Cadash it says. Proof that Caridin’s words were true. They had been a dwarf once. And then the memories start to come back. They are like water at first. Running through their stone fingers. But they start to recognize the name. Shayle. That was them. That was _her_. Shale did not know how to feel about this.

On their way back Shale notices the small one struggling to keep up with the rest of the group. She remembers how her old bastard of a master had often complained about getting tired and making Shale carry him. After she had been woken up from her slumber. Shale had sworn to herself that her days of carrying soft squishy people were over.

Well, it turns out, she used to be one of the soft squishy people. Then there is the fleeting memory of burning limps feeling far too heavy after a long march through the Deep Roads. The feeling of hate against her own failing body.

Shale picks the small one up and places it on her shoulders.

“Just this once”, she grumbles.

It is a promise she will break again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Next up will be Zevran's chapter.


	7. Zevran

_“We all do our share of murdering around here, don’t we?”_

Unsurprisingly, Zevran is the one who doesn’t object to the fact they travel with a child. He was also the least perturbed with how good she was at killing. The Crows started to train their recruits at that age. Even younger if they could get them. What he would never admit to the others though, was the fact that Elanor was already a lot better than he had been at her age.

So, when he was accepted into the group under the assumption that he help train her, Zevran was delighted to do so. An excellent student and he gets to travel with three exceptional beauties? What more could a man want?

He is even more delighted, when he discovers how fast the girl learns. The Crows would have loved her, he finds himself thinking. They would have made her into a master assassin in a few short years. Assuming they didn’t kill her for insubordination first.

Though she did not seem to like talking much, Elanor did always manage to make her opinion known on the matters at hand. Whether it was about what to do with Connor, deciding between the werewolves and the Dalish or which dwarf should be the next king under the mountains. It was always very clear, what she wanted them (well, Alistair really,) to decide.

And to tell the truth, they usually did the things she wanted them to do. Not only because she usually did want to do the most sensible thing. But also, because none of them wanted to make the girl put out with themselves. One could think, that since the girl already didn’t talk much, Elanor giving one the cold shoulder wouldn’t make that much of a difference.

One would be wrong. Very wrong.

When Elanor was mad at someone her warm and curious gaze turned into cold, sharp daggers that you could almost feel pierce in your bag. The creepy thing was, when you turned around to face the girl, she was nowhere in sight. But the feeling never faded.

Zevran truly wanted to know where the girl had learned to sneak like that.

And the fact that they all very well knew how capable the girl was at killing, did not help with the matter. Nor did the knowledge that she was getting better at it every day. Especially now that she had an enthusiastic tutor. Some nights Zevran feared what kind of woman Elanor would grow up to be. Assuming they all survived the Bligth, of course.

For being stuck in a country with an ongoing Blight and a brewing civil war, Zevran was quite enjoying himself. He had even gotten used to the cold and the lack of spices in his dinner. He discovered that knowing that at least this one time he was on the right side of the battle made more than up for his homesickness. He also got a sick sense of satisfaction out of teaching the girl all the secret techniques the Crows did not want getting out.

But because the past is, well, the past, it does have the bad habit of catching up. Part of Zevran is sad, that it had to be his old friend who came back for him. The other (much bigger part) just wants to be done with all this. Once and for all. Elanor seems to think along the same lines.

When her firm “no” is ignored by Taliesin, Zevran can already see where this is going. He sees her face crunch up with annoyance when regarding the man.

Taliesin had only himself to blame really.

And even though Zevran is actively watching the girl out of the corner his eye, he almost misses it. The moment Taliesin’s eyes are again trained on Zevran, Elanor taps two times on her hound’s bag (a sign for him that meant ‘stay’ as Zevran had learned) and vanishes. Zevran doubts anybody other than he himself and maybe Leliana notice it.

He keeps Taliesin talking for a few moments more and suddenly his old friend stumbles forward a few steps, a sword and a knife jotting from his back.

“I said no”, Elanor snarls as she twists her weapons before pulling them out. It is mostly chaos after that.

Afterwards Elanor finds Zevran standing over Talesin’s corpse. “Free at last”, he sighs in relief.

“You’ll stay, right?” The question brings a smile to Zevran’s lips and he kneels down to better look into the girl’s eyes.

“Do you want me to stay, cuervo pequeño?”

The girl nods vehemently.

“Then I will stay.” He ruffles her hair affectionately. “It would be a shame to leave my favourite student behind, when I still have so much to teach, no?” He shows her the bottle with greenish grey liquid he had found in Taliesin’s pocket. “This is called Quiet Death. It is one of the deadliest poisons known to the Crows. When we are back at the camp, I’ll show you how to make it.”

Zevran is pretty sure the grin on the Elanor’s face was something Chantry sister would describe as ‘unholy’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The Oghren's chapter will be next.


	8. Oghren

_“'When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lie dead.' As one of the blighters, I sodding salute you. Let us show them our hearts, and then show them theirs.”_

For most of the time, Oghren is way too drunk to have an opinion on the kid. Sometimes Elanor seems to be the only one who appreciates the jokes he makes. The others usually just got disgusted looks on their faces. That made her good in his book. He tries to give her a taste of the Dwarven Stout one time, but Wynne and Leliana catch him before she could take a sip.

His ears still ring from all the screaming.

Elanor is the one who checks on Oghren after the whole disaster Branka had created was over. He brushes her off the first time she asks. And the second. And the third. The fourth time he is pretty deep into his third wine skin and he tells her everything. The good. The bad. And, eventually, even about Felsi.

“I’m sure she’s forgiven me by now. Maybe I’ll track her down. See how she’s been living.” He takes another swig. “I tried to look her up the last time we were at Lake Calenhad. She wasn’t at work at the inn. At home with her sick mother, they said. I figured it was the ancestors telling me something.” He belches and lets out a deep sigh. “But I keep thinking about her.”

Oghren remembers taking drinking more after that and not much else. But a few weeks after they are back at Lake Calenhad. Alistair claims it’s because of a delivery he promised to make. And apparently Elanor wanted to check on a dwarven lass, who apparently was at the Circle Tower of all things.

Well, jokes on them. Oghren may be a drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. Most of the time. No matter what the witch (or anybody else) said. He knew exactly who to thank for the opportunity to speak with Felsi and this time the ancestors had nothing to do with it.

When they make camp in the evening, he gives Elanor the pastry Felsi had recommended. Normally he would have just bought some good ale, but both Wynne and Leliana had separately threatened him with various things if he tried to give the kid alcohol again. Never mind the look the witch had given him. He liked his limbs intact enough that he opted to buying the pastry instead.

After that Oghren more than willingly lets himself being used as target practice when Zevran and Leliana train the kid in the evenings. Besides, it was fun. And it kept him in good shape. Those damned shrieks would not escape him the next time they showed their ugly faces.

Somewhere in between pretending to be a genlock and drunkenly ranting to the kid about anything that was on his mind at the moment, Elanor earns a special place inside Oghren’s heart. Which is the main reason he takes it personally when the kid (and Alistair) end up imprisoned in Fort Drakon because of Anora. He insists on going on the rescue mission no matter how much the others claim being more qualified.

That’s how Oghren and Leliana came to stand inside the prison walls waiting for the commanding officer to try make a delivery that didn’t exist.

“I had not realized, you cared so much.”

“Just repaying my debt, that’s all.” Oghren resists the growing itch to take a swig from his wine skin. If it came to battle, he would need his senses sharp.

“You don’t really expect me to believe, that is all there is to it, do you?”

Oghren curses the ancestors for making the redhead so perceptive. “Believe what you will”, he grumbles and tries his best to ignore her laughter.

“She has a way of sneaking into the hearts of people, doesn’t she?”, Leliana finally remarks. “Even Morrigan’s. I had not thought it possible, if I am to be honest.”

Oghren snorts in agreement. The witch was one cold hearted bitch, that’s for sure. But even he had caught her gaze softening every now and then when talking with Elanor. “Thought for sure she was going to turn the queen into a toad or something.”

“I thought so too!”, Leliana laughs. “I would not have minded to be honest. What kind of a person allows the people who risked their lives to rescue them to be thrown in a jail? Especially a child!”

The commander arrives before Oghren can answer and they have to concentrate on lying their way through the Fort. Oghren leaves the talking to Leliana and does his best to look like someone used to making deliveries. The redhead used to be an Orlesian spy from what he had heard so she would be better at it anyway.

Oghren did not like being dishonest. A straightforward battle would have been much more to his liking. But the others had pointed out that the guards were just doing their jobs, so they had agreed to avoid battle if possible.

Didn’t mean Oghren was happy about it.

Luckily for him, the ancestors were on his side today and their ruse doesn’t hold all the way through.

It was their own fault for working with that shithead Loghain anyway.

“Just wait for me, kid”, he thinks. “I’m coming for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Next will be Morrigan.


	9. Morrigan

_“Of all the things I could have imagined would have resulted when Flemeth told me to go with you, the very last would have been that I would find in you a friend. Perhaps even a sister. I want you to know that while I may not always prove ... worthy ... of you friendship, I will always value it.”_

When Morrigan leaves with the Wardens (well, let’s be honest, it’s one _Warden_, really, and a simple minded one at that) to defeat the Bligth she does so for one reason only. The magic of old was too valuable to be lost. It had to be preserved. And that included the souls of the Old Gods.

If that meant she had to endure Alistair’s childish whims on helping every random civilian they came across this Maker forsaken land and make sure he actually made it to the Archdemon in one piece, then so be it. Though, in its own way, it was kind of impressive that even when including the dog, the man still managed to be dumbest person in the group.

The girl, on the other hand, was a curious thing. At first Morrigan failed to see why her mother had been so taken with her. If the girl had been a mage, Morrigan would have at least somewhat understood the interest. It frustrated her, that Flemeth was privy to some hidden information that Morrigan wasn’t. The old hag had way too many secrets as it were.

Morrigan started to understand when the girl first insisted on freeing the caged qunari. After the grey skinned giant’s confession Morrigan was sure she would leave the man rot in his cage as Alistair suggested. Instead she produced the key from her pocket and challenged Alistair with her gaze.

At first Morrigan is impressed with the fact that the girl manages to get through to the knucklehead. Then the realization hits her. When did the girl acquire the key from the Revered Mother in the first place? Morrigan had been there every moment they had spoken with the priestess and at no point then or afterwards had the girl been gone. But somehow, she had failed to notice when the girl had lifted the key. What else had she missed? Morrigan lets her hand glide over her own pouch. Everything seems to still be where it belonged.

From then on, Morrigan tries to keep a closer eye on the girl. ‘Tries’ being the operative word. Somehow the girl always seems to know the exact moment, when no one is paying any attention to her and uses that moment to disappear into the shadows.

It was as impressive as it was annoying.

While keeping closer tabs on the girl, Morrigan notices that the child is also watching her as well. Sometimes when their gazes meet, Morrigan gets the awful feeling that the girl sees right through her. Time and time again she tells herself, that it is impossible. There is no way for the girl know why Flemeth had sent Morrigan with them. Still, she never manages to shake the feeling away entirely and distances herself from the girl as much as possible.

Which would have been easier if Elanor had kept her distance as well. The girl takes every excuse to come to Morrigan’s tent. Most often it is to bring Morrigan’s share of supper and similar things. Then Morrigan catches her hovering around and watching her as she is preparing poultices. Morrigan is about to tell her to scram it, but the girl is already gone.

The next evening Elanor brings back herbs from her evening walk with her hound. Morrigan has to admit to herself (and only herself) that she is somewhat impressed that the girl had somehow in the darkness found the correct herbs Morrigan needed to make health poultices. She considers the plants offered to her for a moment before making a decision.

“Do you want to learn how poultices are made?” Elanor nods vigorously. From then on, whenever Morrigan is preparing something, she allows the girl to assist her. She even feels something like pride swelling in her chest, when Elanor manages to make a health poultice on her own for the first time.

When the time comes to go to the mages’ tower, Morrigan decides to tell the girl about her mother’s stolen grimoire. If the girl was able to pick correct herbs in the dark, maybe she also would be able to find a single tome in a tower full of books. And she is not let down. When they enter the First Enchanter’s study it takes the girl just a few moments before she is already standing before Morrigan with a leather-bound book adorned with a symbol of a leafless tree in her hands. Flemeth’s stolen grimoire.

Morrigan is overjoyed and thanks the girl.

Her happiness doesn’t last long.

Morrigan has never had a good relationship with her mother, but this was beyond anything even she had imagined Flemeth to be capable. She tries to hide her horror from the rest of the group. Morrigan is pretty sure that Leliana has caught on that something is wrong. But the redhead doesn’t dare approach, correctly assuming that her concern wouldn’t be well received.

Elanor has no such qualms. In the camp she comes to Morrigan with a worried look on her face. And before even realizing what she is doing, Morrigan finds herself telling the girl about her discovery. Much like Morrigan the girl is horrified. This Morrigan anticipated as far as reactions go. She, however, did not expect the question that comes next.

“What do you want to do?”

Nobody had ever asked Morrigan that question. Not even Flemeth. And it takes Morrigan a moment to gather herself before she is able to answer.

“There is only one thing I can do. Flemeth needs to die. I will not sit about like an empty sack waiting to be filled.”

Elanor looks at her for moment. Morrigan thinks she sees something like surprise on her face. Like it wasn’t the answer she had expected. Then Elanor rises to her feet and starts walking towards Alistair. Guessing what she is about to do Morrigan tries to stop her. She had not meant to ask for help.

“It’s alright. That’s what friends are for, right?” The answer makes Morrigan freeze in her tracks. She only finds her bearings again, when Alistair’s “you want to do _what_?!” echoes through the camp.

Morrigan does not know how Elanor convinces the others. But she does. Though Alistair makes it very clear he is only doing this, because he is afraid Elanor will just go on her own. “And I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything”, he grumbles.

Knowing Elanor, Morrigan suspects that he might be right in his worry.

She prepares them as many health poultices as they can carry before they leave for the Wilds and stays behind. Too afraid of the possibility to be overtaken by Flemeth to go with them. The next three days she spends anxiously pacing the camp, waiting for them to return. Late in the evening of the fourth day Morrigan is already fearing the worst when she hears Alistair’s loud voice complaining about the wasted time. It takes all her self-control not to run to them and demanding answers.

She sees Elanor approach and checks her for injuries. (In hindsight, she thinks years later, the lack of them should have been telling.) Before Morrigan can even open her mouth, Elanor gives her the answer she is looking for.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.” (It isn’t even really a lie, Morrigan argues years later when she finds out the whole truth of the matter.) She reaches in her pack and takes out a familiar book. Flemeth’s real grimoire. Morrigan lets the book fall to the ground and hugs the girl. Only then she realizes that if Elanor had died on this quest Morrigan had sent her on, she would have never forgiven herself.

In the evening when the others are asleep, Morrigan is studying the tome. She comes across the ritual Flemeth had taught her so Morrigan could save the soul of the Old God that was twisted into the Archdemon. Her gaze wanders to the tent where Elanor is sleeping with her dog.

Morrigan finds she has a whole new reason for making sure the ritual succeeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The next (and last) chapter will be Alistair's.


	10. Alistair

_“You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.”_

When Duncan recruits the young templar, telling him the Blight was going to start soon, Alistair would have never expected that it would end with him becoming a big brother of sorts. Because that is what he feels like from the moment he lays his eyes on the small girl Duncan had brought with him. At least he is pretty sure that this must be what being a big brother felt like. Not like he had any experience on the matter.

And then she becomes a Grey Warden. It’s like a nightmare he didn’t even know he had been afraid of. So, when they are given the easy way out of the battle? Alistair doesn’t even complain. Duncan said that he couldn’t sense the Archdemon, so it was more than likely this wouldn’t be the last battle during this Blight. There would come more than enough opportunities to prove himself soon enough. Alistair more than gladly takes the girl to the tower if it means that she stays safe. And hey, at least they still got to do something useful, right?

When it turns out that the tower isn’t as safe as everyone had though, Alistair almost turns back. Conflicted by the importance of lighting the signal fire and his new discovered instincts screaming at him to keep the girl safe. In the end she makes the decision for him by entering the tower without hesitation and Alistair has no other choice than to follow her.

It only goes downhill from there.

Duncan is dead, the King is dead, Loghain had betrayed Cailan, the Blight was still ravaging Ferelden and there were only two Grey Warden left in the whole country. One of which was not even meant be a Grey Warden, because they were, quite literally, a child!

Alistair thinks he does a pretty good job keeping his panic in check considering the situation he has found himself in.

The seemingly impossible task of gathering an army makes the situation somehow a little better. It gives him something to focus on. Though he is less than thrilled that Flemeth insists on Morrigan coming with them. It is not only because the woman has a nastier personality than any genlock Alistair has ever met (and recently he had met quite a lot of them). His instincts tell him that there was more going on than he is being told. But he feels like it would be a bad idea to question someone with Flemeth’s reputation, so he agrees to let the woman come with them. Plus, Flemeth did kind of save him and the girl, so he owed her for that.

So, here they were. A junior Grey Warden, a child and a witch. Trying to gather an army to save everybody. Alistair has no illusions about how hard it was going to be.

Turns out it would be even harder.

Because somehow Arl Eamon was deadly sick, the Mage’s Tower was closed because of abominations running rampage, the elves were plagued by werewolves and the dwarven king had just died with no clear successor to rule after him. And let’s not forget the fact that Loghain had declared himself King regent and was hunting them.

Surely, the Maker was somewhere sitting on his golden throne laughing at them.

But since nothing came out of just sitting around and complaining (as Morrigan loved to point out every opportunity given) Alistair had no choice than to march forward.

And, somehow, they manage to find a cure for Arl Eamon (and even slay a dragon while they are there), save the mages, lift the curse from the werewolves and even help choose a new king for dwarves. On the way their group keeps getting larger and, more importantly, Alistair gets to watch Elanor thrive.

He worries about the fast rate she is growing. It can’t possibly be healthy. He has discussions with Wynne about it and they decide that for now it is useless to worry about it. If they defeat the Archdemon und survive to tell the tale there is bound to be Wardens in Anderfells who know more about the effects of the Blight on a human body.

Speaking of the Archdemon.

On the eve of the battle it has been months since Alistair had last been worried about Elanor dying during combat. Leliana and Zevran had done a wonderful job of training her. But facing the corrupted dragon lets that old worry grow anew. And Riordan’s revelation about how exactly an Archdemon was slain did not help the matter at all. Quite contrary in fact. It makes it worse. So much worse.

So, when Morrigan finally reveals why Flemeth sent her with them? Well, to say that Alistair jumps on the opportunity would be a grave exaggeration. But it only takes three words to change his mind.

“What about Elanor?”

Suddenly Alistair is back on the mountaintop where Andraste’s ashes had been hidden. Watching as Elanor jumps on the high dragon’s head burying her sword in its skull. Killing the beast with one final blow. If she manages to do that again with the Archdemon, she will die. And after witnessing her skills in countless battles, Alistair is more than willing to admit how likely that outcome will be.

And even if he somehow manages to get to the beast and kill it before Elanor does? What then? Elanor would be left alone. A lone Grey Warden who was never meant to be. Sure, he trusted the others enough to keep her safe and all that. But at the end of the day, they were not Grey Wardens. They would never truly understand her. Not like Alistair could.

So, in the end, the decision is surprisingly easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you made it this far, then please leave a kudo (and a comment, if you feel like it). :)


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